Laughing In The Dark
by JusSonic
Summary: Okay, this story is also a drama. So don't go psycho on me, okay?


Okay, Hamitonian's stories get pretty weird, but don't freaked out, okay?  
++++++++++  
Hey all you people...Hammy (that's me!!...duh...) has decided to drag herself to the computer and write something. I have a, like, high fever right now, so maybe that will help.  
I'm trying something new here...so bear with me. If ya like it, say so. If not, then may you be chased by angry, viscous, mutated sporks until giant, radioactive dust mites rule the world.  
I said I had a high fever, didn't I?  
  
Ok, all joking aside, this is really depressive. I mean, I am depressed right now, so I wrote something dark and depressive. I'm a little afraid of submitting this, because I don't think you guys will like it very much, but hey...writing is risk, right?  
  
So if ya hate it, forget the spork dust-mite thing. Just be nice...  
  
LAUGHING IN THE DARK...by Hamiltonian  
  
Bill Straitman sighed and pushed his hand through his brown hair, which immediately fell back into place. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, Bill frowned. Always the same...neatly-pressed blue suit, red tie, polished shoes...the vision of order and control.  
But was there really that much control? Or was he just laughing in the dark, with this neat, cool, calm exterior? Bill couldn't...  
There was a knock at Bill's door before he could complete his thought about his appearance.  
"Come in." Bill called, and the door opened. Chit Chatterson was standing there, looking haggard and disheveled.  
"Chit?" Bill frowned. Chit was usually as neat as Bill himself.  
"I have been having the WORST DAY IMAGINABLE!" Chit screamed, slamming the door to Bill's dressing room behind him. Bill raised an eyebrow and Chit slumped down in Bill's chair.  
"I have a feeling you're going to explain?" Bill tilted his head, pulling himself up on his dresser.  
"Yeah..." Chit was about to launch into his tale of woe when Bill's door burst open. Father Time was standing there, looking enraged.  
"CHIT!" He screamed.  
Chit froze up.  
"Um...yes?" He stammered.  
"I think we need to have a little DISCUSSION about your conduct." Father Time prompted, his eyes burning with anger. Bill frowned at Chit, who gave Bill a 'help me please' look. Bill shrugged, and Chit sighed.  
"Look, Father Time, I know I shouldn't have..." Chit started.  
"I KNOW YOU KNOW YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE!" Father Time exploded.  
"Wait, I'm confused. Father Time, what did Chit do? I haven't heard anything about conduct..." Bill interjected, trying to calm the old man down.  
"I'm surprised you don't know, Bill. The producer was here today." Father Time started.  
"Oh God." Bill rolled his eyes. Whenever the producer came there was trouble. But usually Sammy Melman was the one making trouble, not Chit.   
"Look, the man insulted me! What was I supposed to do!?" Chit demanded, suddenly jumping to his feet in an angry, blurred movement.  
"Yes, I know he insulted you Chit...BUT DID YOU HAVE TO SLAM INTO HIS CAR!??!?" Father Time exploded again, jumping up and down like the ground was very hot.  
"You ran into his car!?" Bill exclaimed, shocked.  
"That was an accident. I cursed him off, then I ran into his car...which made it look like it WASN'T an accident..." Chit sighed, putting his hands in his pocket, his anger disappearing, fading into something like resignation. Bill licked his lips, sighing.  
"Accident or not, Chit, it was a stupid thing to do. Even Sammy never did anything like that. I don't know what I'm going to do about this." Father Time frowned.  
"Maybe the producer will cool down." Bill suggested, trying to be helpful. Chit sat down again heavily, his shoulders drooped and his eyes downcast.   
"Bill, the car was a 1966 Corvette. He's not gonna cool down too soon." Father Time growled.  
Suddenly, there was a loud crash in the hallway, and a flurry of voices. One that might have been Cho-Cho cried out 'Lucky Bob, I told you that would explode!'  
Father Time rolled his eyes.  
"I'll be back." He announced, then turned on his heel and left Bill's dressing room.  
Bill turned back to Chit.  
"I need a drink. Badly." Chit suddenly announced, looking it.  
"Well, I was gonna stay and rehearse a bit for tomorrow, but I'll go." Bill shrugged.  
Chit smiled at him in gratitude.  
  
Chit and Bill somehow ended up at some dingy bar on the other side of town called 'Shooting for the Moon.' Bill had decided to stop there, because something about the name struck him. It had obviously affected Chit, too, because he kept staring at the words written on the coaster, fiddling with it absently.  
Bill got a beer, because he had a feeling he would be doing the driving. His prediction would probably be as good as Nostradamus', because Chit ordered a scotch and downed it pretty quickly.  
"So, why was the producer insulting you?" Bill asked after a moment.  
Chit turned to him, a bit bleary already. Chit was never one to hold his alcohol well. At the "adult" Christmas party last year, he, Sammy, and Barry Ding had gotten into a drinking contest, and Chit had passed out on the second round. But, Sammy had ended up running around covered in garland, singing 'Man I Feel Like A Woman' in a high falsetto, so maybe Chit had been better off...  
Anyway, Chit sighed, and started playing with the coaster again.  
"I dunno, it was stupid. Sammy and I were walking out to my car, and the producer drove up...Sammy ducked, 'cause he always seems to get in trouble with that guy..." Chit finished another drink, "So, the s.o.b is tellin' me my car is the saddest thing he's ever seen, an' he was jus' goin' on like that...so I cursed him off." Chit finished in a slurred voice.  
"And then you hit him with your car." Bill guessed.  
"It was an acciden'" Chit frowned, looking disoriented.  
"Yeah, I know." Bill sighed. For the past few days...well, weeks, maybe, he had been feeling down. The whole adult cast, had been, actually. And something was really bothering Chit. The guy was a moron sometimes, but Bill had never seen him like this.  
"Bill? Chit?" a voice asked. Bill turned around. Chit did, eventually, but he was a little less aware.  
"Sammy?" Bill frowned.  
Sammy Melman was staring at the two of them in confusion.  
"How do you know about this place?" Sammy asked.  
"I don't. We were just driving around, and we found it. I liked the name." Bill explained with a shrug. Sammy nodded, and sat on the opposite side of Bill, biting the sound of his mouth.  
"Shootin' fer the moon..." Chit drawled softly, his voice infinitely sad and poignant.  
"Why? Do you come here a lot?" Bill asked Sammy after giving Chit a quick, worried glance.  
"Well...lately, I guessed." Sammy nodded, looking a little embarrassed. Bill nodded. Lately, Sammy had seemed different from his normal, perky, annoying self. His acting had even been half-hearted, and he had been getting in trouble with Father Time more and more.  
"It's sort of a dive." Bill sighed.  
"Yeah, well..." Sammy trailed off and ordered a beer.  
"It all seems so pointless..." Chit suddenly started, his voice oddly clear for his drunken state, "The show...everything. The kids get the spotlight, ya know, the kids and Father Time, and the World's Oldest Woman...everyone...but what am I? Jesus, it's all so worthless. I'm not even noticed. I don't even think the producer knew I was from the show."   
"Well maybe it was better he didn't." Sammy cracked.  
"Chit, it's not pointless." Bill argued, discreetly slapping Sammy upside the head...if that can be done discreetly, that is. Bill was worried. He had never seen Chit so down. But, then again, Bill had been thinking the exact same thing lately. He was tired of just being the object of ridicule...a side-act to that Old Woman and her disgusting innuendoes. The pressure of it was really weighing him down, and he did know what Chit meant.  
"Yes it is. It really is. I'm so tired..." Chit breathed, staring into his almost-empty glass.  
"We all are." Sammy sneered, downing another Budweiser.   
Bill looked down. He was scared of this darkness inside his friends, mostly because he had the same darkness in him. It had been growing since the beginning, but now it was really spreading, like some dark cancer over what had once been his placid, laid-back demeanor.  
"We missed it, ya know? With this show. God, I was shootin' for the moon when I started. Shootin' for the damned moon. But I missed. I didn't even hit a star. I landed in the darkness between the stars." Chit went on. He sounded as if he were talking to himself, his voice too clear, too intoned. He sounded drunk without being drunk, if that were possible.  
Bill put an arm around his friend, and Sammy ordered another drink. Something stronger. He looked utterly destroyed, as if Chit had explained what was wrong with his life, too. There was none of Sammy's old self-assurance, his sense of self-importance, left in his eyes. Bill sighed, and blinked hard. He wondered why he had never realized how...well...admirable Sammy's sense of self was. But now it was gone, and Sammy just looked sadly indifferent to everything.  
"The name...that's why I come here. Chit's said it." Sammy nodded after a moment.  
"How do you hold up, Bill? You have it worse than any of us. With that demeaning stuff they make you do." Chit asked, turning to Bill, his eyes half-closed and his face ashy, drained of color. Bill suddenly noticed the deep, bruised lines under Chit's eyes, lines he had never seen there before.  
"I guess...I don't know." Bill shrugged darkly.  
"Bill knows how to laugh in the dark, Chit." Sammy volunteered, and Chit turned to him, raising an eyebrow, silently prompting an explanation.  
Sammy finished his drink, and put his chin in his hand contemplatively.  
"We've all landed in the spaces between the stars, where it's all dark. But you can laugh in the dark. Not at it, 'cause it's too big, too cold and uncaring. But you can laugh in it, because you're basically laughing at yourself. And as long as you can laugh, even if you're only laughing at the futility of EVERYTHING, then you've got a hold of something." Sammy explained quietly.  
Chit nodded, and Bill turned to Sammy.  
"That's my favorite expression--laughing in the dark. How'd you know that?" Bill asked.  
Sammy shrugged.  
Suddenly Chit snorted, laughing, a strangled, frantic, almost shrieking laugh, desperate, gasping, grabbing. Bill and Sammy turned to him, and were shocked to find tears running down his ashen face.  
"Chit..." Bill started.  
"I'm trying...I'm..." he started, almost hysterical.  
"Grab hold." Sammy whispered to himself, but Bill heard. "Grab hold quick..." and he suddenly started laughing as well, burying his face in his hands, laughing in a low, coughing way.  
Bill sat between the two, his resolve, his strength slipping. All of it, the lack of recognition, the World's Oldest Woman, the sheer futility of trying to be something more than a running gag on the show, hitting him all at once as he watched his two best friends slowly lose control.  
"Shooting for the moon," Bill whispered to himself, looking at the faded, flickering neon sign over the bar, "and laughing in the dark." He finished, dropping his head.  
  
  
Sorry guys, I know it was pretty bad, but I had this in my head, and I had to get it out...and i WILL finish the CotW thing...this just had to be written. Again, I'm sorry 


End file.
